My Mother's Apprentice: A Sequel

By Diana L McDonough

My Mother’s Apprentice is the sequel to Stuck in the Onesies.“ It’s the story of the daughters, Ginger and Karen, who grew up as close as sisters. Ginger chases her dream to Jamaica, but Karen goes no further than her own backyard.

The story transports you to the 1970s when Ginger becomes a sta

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diana McDonough
• Release date: Feb 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781733731904

Diana L McDonough

Diana wrote her first novel, Stuck in the Onesies, over a ten-year period while working full time for Ecolab, Inc. She retired from Ecolab to pursue writing full time and published Stuck in the Onesies in January, 2017. My Mother's Apprentice is the sequel to Stuck in the Onesies. A third novel, Ginger Star, will complete the trilogy. Diana writes historical fiction, humor, and women's fiction. You can visit her website at www.dianamcdonough.com and sign up for her blog. Diana is the mother of three and Grandy of eleven. She is a native of Maryland (Washington, D.C. suburbs) and is a Ft. Myers, Florida snowbird.

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Diana McDonough

© 2019 Diana McDonough. All rights reserved.

Published by Diana McDonough

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, utilized or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, scanning, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or hereafter invented, without prior written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover design by Roslyn McFarland, Far Lands Publishing.

Book design and production by Ginger Marks, DocUmeant Designs

ISBN: 978-1-7337319-0-4 (ePub)

Dedication

My Mother’s Apprentice is dedicated to Betty Bergquist, an original Tensie (Darlene) from Stuck in the Onesies. She’s been such an inspiration to me, not only in writing My Mother’s Apprentice, but learning how to thrive after losing ones I love and still have a sense of humor. This poem she wrote certainly applies to storing up those memories for when we need them most.

Summer Day Found

By Betty Bergquist

Gentle breezes, flowing softly

Waft through the leaves of lacy green.

Neighboring gardeners, sleepy insects

Set the stage serene

Sloping lawns with houses perched

Their window boxes glowing

Sun filled laughter, bubbly chatter

Another way of knowing

Days to cherish

Days of feeling, intoxicating, senses reeling

Oh, to store these summer moments

Keep them locked away

And when winter’s rains and bareness come

And turn your mood to gray

There you have it, there it is

Your lovely summer day.

Prologue

1971

Karen and Ginger were the daughters of Barb and Ellie, ordinary women who lived in extraordinary times. Stuck in the Onesies told Barb and Ellie’s story. My Mother’s Apprentice will fill you in on their daughters, Karen and Ginger. If you haven’t read Stuck in the Onesies or need a quick refresher course, this prologue will give you the inside scoop.

The first thing you need to know is that if you’ve ever played the game of jacks, you know if you get stuck in the onesies on your first turn, you’re forever trying to catch up.

Yeah, you remember Mike? sixteen-year-old Ginger asked as she sat cross legged on the warm tile floor facing Karen. She pulled her long auburn hair back into a pony tail and tossed the ten metal jacks on the tiles to take her turn in the fivesies. She scooped up five in one swoop and caught the red ball with the same hand. She quickly finished off the other five and threw the jacks back down for the sixies.

You mean the same guy you climbed out your window to go out with last weekend? Karen was still in shock at Ginger’s nerve. She was too chicken to even think about sneaking out. Avoiding the wrath of her dad was something she worked hard at.

Yeah, that’s the one. Ginger threw the ball up and swooped up six jacks. Mom and Dad had been fighting for a few hours. They were really going at it, so disappearing was no problem.

Man, you’re braver than me, Karen said. No way I’d have the nerve.

It doesn’t take much to be braver than you, Kar. Ginger smiled and Karen nodded. She was a self-professed scaredy-cat.

Karen looked up to see Ellie, Ginger’s mom, appear in the doorway. She looked hard at Ginger trying to warn her but was too late. Ginger goofed her second swoop as she caught a glimpse of her mom in the corner of her eye. Her heart skipped a beat. Dang, stuck in the sixies!

Whaddya need to be brave about? Ellie asked Karen whose cheeks flushed as she tried to come up with an answer. Ellie had heard the girls talking about her fight with Will but pretended to have missed it.

Promise not to tell? Karen asked trying to stall so she could come up with something. She never was good at thinking on her feet. Ellie nodded. Ginger came to her rescue.

She’s freaked out because she got a D on a history test. Ginger lied. And doesn’t want to tell her dad. Ellie tucked that comment away for later. Evidently, Ginger was good at lying on her feet, when cornered.

Well, I wouldn’t wanna tell him either! Ellie said and chuckled. Maybe you can get the grade up with some extra credit work or something before he finds out. She reached down and patted Karen on the head who was now on her threesies but goofed on her third swipe of the jacks.

Dang! Karen fussed.

Here, Ellie sat down between Karen and Ginger, crossed her legs, tucking in her housedress here and there, and gathered up the jacks and ball. Let me show you girls how it’s done. She proceeded to start in the onesies and whooped them clear through to the tensies in just a few minutes. And that ladies, Ellie sat up straight, is how it’s done. She swiped her hands together to show she was finished. Too bad she couldn’t earn money for playing jacks. She’d be rich.

I don’t know how to say this, so I’ll just spit it out. You, me, and the boys will be moving to Waldorf the beginning of next month. Karen and Ginger looked from her, to each other, and back to Ellie again. Ginger knew her parents were having problems. Not that it had ever been a walk in the park between those two, but things had escalated lately. Loud fights, slamming doors, and an occasional, Fix your own damn dinner! from Ellie when the fighting wouldn’t stop. Her mother was crying all the time, even when her dad wasn’t home. That’s when she knew it was really bad.

I hate that we’re leaving Radiant Valley, but living in chaos isn’t good for any of us. I’m sorry I’ve been such a wreck, Ging. Ginger knelt, reached over for her mother, and hugged her from behind.

Hey, Mom, I think it’s gonna be a change for the good. I’ll be happy to get the heck away from here. Ginger squeezed her mom hard.

Hey, don’t forget about me! Karen pretended to be offended.

Ellie had fretted about telling Ginger they were moving thirty miles away. Will’s affair had been enough to drive the final stake into the heart of her marriage. Roberta, the other woman was a former mutual friend of her and Barb’s, making Will’s transgression even more painful for all of them. It had created a more than sticky situation not only between her and Will, but Barb and her husband, Jake, too. Ellie and Will’s failed marriage turned out to be more of a damaging force than she’d imagined. The two couples had been best friends for years and had celebrated holidays and milestones together, but this would change that forever.

Her marriage had been over for a long time. She knew now what she had realized years earlier, but the babies had just kept on coming. She found herself starting to look forward to her new beginning and Ginger’s support made her heart swell with love for her not-so-little girl.

No way we’d forget about you, kiddo, Ellie said to Karen. You and your mom will always be around making new memories with us. Something told Ellie things would never be the same, but she kept that to herself. She reached over and scooped up the ball and jacks and stood up. The girls joined her.

So, you guys gonna go to the pool or what? Ellie asked. We can drive down to Waldorf later this afternoon and check out our new digs, if you want. The girls grabbed their beach towels and headed out the door. Ellie grinned as she heard the screen door slam behind them.

It wasn’t every day you get a do-over, but Ellie was getting hers now. While she was worried about leaving their old life behind, she found herself beginning to embrace her new one. Regrets were for when it was too late to change something. This was anything but that. She grinned as she looked at the jacks in her hand and walked out of the room into her future.

Chapter 1

Yesterday Once More

The Carpenters

1973

Live for yourself and you will live in vain. Live for others, and you will live again. —Bob Marley

Sometimes living on a hillside in Jamaica with only one electrical outlet and no phone was a plus. This was one of those times.

Ginger wasn’t looking forward to her best friend, Karen’s reaction, to the letter she mailed to her well over a month ago. It should have arrived by now and Ginger knew within a few hours of reading it, Karen would have crafted her reply. She was sure Karen’s response was in the mail on its way to Jamaica by now. Ginger dreaded Karen’s handwritten smack upside the head. She knew once Karen was done with that, she’d go on to Why didn’t you call me? You know I’m always in your corner! Ginger knew what Karen would say before she wrote it. They’d been friends since they were five years old. Their moms, Barb and Ellie, had been the closest of friends and their daughters had followed suit. Karen was Ginger’s best and only female friend. She hated to think what life would be like were that to change. Even though they saw most things differently, it didn’t matter. Ginger was the artsy type, tall, auburn hair, and slender. Karen was the smart and practical one with dark brown hair and as she liked to call it, jumbo petite in size. The one with the pretty face. The two hardly ever saw eye to eye on just about everything, but it never mattered. Ginger hoped her letter wouldn’t change that.

She wondered when Donovan, her live in boyfriend, would get home. She looked at her watch, the only piece of real jewelry she still owned. The rest had gone the way of pawnshops or sticky-fingered friends. It was a gift from her mom for her birthday six months before Ellie died in a car accident in 1971, just two years earlier. A drunk driver hit her car broadside. That was the day they took Ginger’s sunshine away.

Ginger loved the watch. It looked like a gold bangle bracelet and had a blue topaz on each side of its face. She’d come close to selling it a time or two when things were tight, but Donovan wouldn’t let her. She’d always love him for that.

The plywood walls of their little hut held up the corrugated sheet metal that rippled to double as a roof and gutters. It would have been considered well below standards in the US, but it was the norm here in Jamaica.

The yard made up for whatever the house lacked. Hibiscus, poinsettias, and bougainvillea draped themselves over the little stone wall she and Donovan had built around the edge of their lot. The colors alone were enough to wake her up every day, but she still brewed coffee over an open fire in the mornings, using the sleeping embers in the fire pit from the night before. The Queen Ann palm had grown to twice its size since she planted it right after she arrived, six months earlier. Jamaica was a colorful contrast to the way things looked in the States in the winter and she was okay with that. The dirt floor made it easy to keep clean. No need for a mop and who could complain about that, except when the rains came. All one could do was wait for the sun to shine again and in Jamaica, it always did.

She shook her head to clear the memory of what she was hiding from Donovan, but knew that wouldn’t help. She picked up a stub from a joint left over from earlier in the day and lit it up. Sitting on her favorite branch that twisted under the banyan tree, she inhaled and held in the smoke. There it was, that familiar wave of relief. She finished the ganja and picked up her guitar.

She’d been told she had her mother’s voice. Some days Ellie’s words were echoed in her songwriting. It seemed Ellie’s reflection followed her just about everywhere. They both had the auburn hair and olive-toned skin. Their voices were similar and they looked alike, but Ginger thought that was where the likeness ended.

Her newest remake of a song was You Are My Sunshine, using the reggae style she’d learned to emulate since meeting Donovan. She leaned into the song and lost the negative thoughts for a while. She stopped for a moment when she thought she heard footsteps and listened. She looked up to see Paulie peeking at her through the banana tree leaves.

Awwk! Sunshine! Awwk! the green parrot squawked.

Geez oh flip, Paulie, she repeated one of her mom’s favorite phrases and put her hand to her throat to slow her heart that had skipped a beat. You shouldn’t sneak up on a girl like that! The bird hopped to the ground and waddled over to her, his green feathers glowed in the Jamaican afternoon sunshine. She reached out and stroked his head. She was the only one Paulie would allow to touch him. Donovan never could understand how she’d been able to get the bird to trust her. She assured him Paulie was a good judge of character. Paulie became her trusted friend and proved to be a good confidante, one that didn’t require a letter or an explanation.

So, Paulie, she leaned the guitar against the tree, I guess she’s gotten my letter by now. By the looks of things, I should have another week or two before her reply gets back to me. The bird waddled in a circle in front of her. She walked across the yard and pulled off a bunch of small green bananas. Pulling the ripest one off, she peeled it and broke it in half, part for her and the rest for Paulie.

A trickle of sweat escaped down her face from the afternoon sunshine. She gathered up her hair and twisted it into a knot on the top of her head to cool off.

Her love of rich foods haunted her thighs, but she discovered it was nothing a diet pill or two couldn’t handle. The meds helped keep her slim, if not just a little edgy. She reasoned that working on a singing career dictated a good image, and she needed all the help she could get.

She picked up the guitar again and glided back into the song. Sometimes she stared at the sea, but most times she closed her eyes, until memories showed up and then she’d open them again. Her younger brothers, Timmy and William, had become her kids by default when her mom passed away. Her parents had been in the middle of an ugly divorce when Ellie died. Ginger moved back to her dad’s to help out. She felt bad leaving them when she moved to Jamaica, but she had to get out of there. They were now alone with Dad and Roberta, his new wife and one of Ginger’s mother’s ex-best friends. She just couldn’t deal with living there anymore. One of them had to go and it was apparent it wasn’t going to be Roberta. When Ginger met Donovan and started to fall in love with him and the idea of living in Jamaica, the decision was easier. Jamaica was the perfect escape route.

The beep of a car horn in the distance pushed away her memories. She looked down the hill to see Donovan waving as Kenroy drove away in his taxi. He turned to walk up the path that zigzagged its way up the mountainside dodging banyan trees that had taken up residence long before the path had come along. They were leasing the land from a Jamaican landlord. Quite a difference from Standish Drive, she had written in an earlier letter to Karen trying to describe her new home. There’s no snow sledding down this hill, but sometimes when it rains, the neighborhood kids slide down on cardboard boxes.

Ginga! Donovan hollered in his half English, half French Jamaican accent. He waved up at her and she blinked in the sunshine that peeked through the leaves of the trees. Putting her hand over her eyes so she could see where he was, Donovan’s dark skin glistened in the sun and the orange tee shirt was drenched with sweat. His dreadlocks were tucked under his brown knit hat. She stood up and leaned the guitar against the base of a banana tree and walked down the path dodging the ruts from the last hard rain that had dug into the hillside. She lifted her skirt to avoid the branches as she walked past her garden. She always thought it funny that what grew wild along the roads of this island were houseplants back home in the States.

When she moved to Ocho Rios with Donovan, or Ochi as the locals called it, she was surprised. She’d thought Jamaica would be one long beach day, but soon discovered there was a price to be paid for the lush tropical setting. The borrowed clouds from the rain forest down the coast in Port Antonio made rain frequent on the north coast of Jamaica. Then she discovered waterfalls. They were everywhere in Jamaica, from little to large, narrow to wide. The sound was always the same and loud enough to drown out most any bad mood she might have.

Donovan met her halfway up the path. She stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. Hey, how was work? she asked. She turned and began to walk back up the hill. She looked over her shoulder as they climbed back up the mountainside single file.

It was work, you know? Donovan answered. As soon as they got to the top of the hill he reached over and tugged her back to him. He pulled her hair loose, and it fell back down over her shoulders. He ran his hands through her coconut milk-washed hair. He loved running his fingers through the silky strands. He turned her around by the shoulders to face him.

Guess what? she asked.

What, mi lady? he sat on the wall they’d built together and pulled her down onto his lap. She threw her legs over his and held him around the neck, laying her head on his shoulder.

Jack Ruby might want me to sing at his tavern regularly! She felt his back stiffen. He sighed. Jack Ruby was a well-known record producer and sound system entrepreneur.

You don’t have to hang out down der, Ging. I make ‘nuf money for us to fix up de house and save some too, he pled his case. She was so weary of male insecurities and wasn’t used to Donovan showing his.

It would only be three nights a week and you can come down and hang out while. It’s not a sure thing just yet, but I hope it will be. She jumped up to start filleting the fish she’d bought from their neighbor, Matthew, after he returned from his morning fishing trip.

Donovan walked over and started a fire to cook dinner. He gratefully changed the subject. You get new charcoal? he asked.

Yeah, Matthew finished a new batch in the pit. He promised it’s a good batch and will last a while. Matthew was a fisherman and charcoal-making entrepreneur.

I’m gonna take a shower, Babe, he said as she placed the frying pan on the fire to get it good and hot. He headed over to their makeshift bathroom. The cistern sat on the roof of the bathroom and enabled them to collect water to meet their needs, at least most of the time. It worked great until a drought would come, about every 20 years or so, according to the landlord. The water level had gotten pretty low this year before the rains finally came. And came they did.

She carried the fish to the kitchen which consisted of a washbasin, a plank of wood for a counter-cutting board, and a fire pit on the ground. She filleted the fish and heated up the oil in the iron skillet over the wood fire. She sliced an onion and a carrot from their hillside garden and threw them in with the fish to brown. Paulie circled her on the outdoor kitchen dirt floor clucking as a reminder to her that he hadn’t eaten enough this afternoon. Don’t worry, boy, you’ll get yours, she tossed him a piece of bread to tide him over as she finished preparing dinner. She walked back over to where the old refrigerator was plugged into their only electrical socket in the bedroom, opened the door and pulled out a bowl of leftover callaloo (what Ginger fondly called an upgrade on American spinach) from the night before.

She heard Donovan turn the shower off. He stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. Should I dress for dinner, dear? he joked, grabbing her hand, and pulling her to the bedroom.

Only if you lose the towel, my man, she jerked the towel loose and it dropped to the ground. He took the bowl of callaloo out of her hands and sat it on the bedside table. She darted back over to the frying pan on the fire, picked it up, sat it on the ground. There was no need for a hot pad on a dirt floor either. Another plus. She giggled as she ran back to their bedroom brushing the banana tree leaf to the side that acted as a curtain.

The heat of the day waned as they lay in each other’s arms until their hunger pains began to get the better of them. I guess we’d better finish cooking dinner, Ginger said. She stood up and wrapped the sheet around her as she headed back to the fire and put the pan back over the coals.

Oh yeah, Donovan said as he reached into his work pants pocket and pulled out an envelope. I stopped at the post office and there was a letter there for you from Karen. He handed the envelope to her and her heart sank. Geez, she didn’t waste any time.

Chapter 2

Dark Side of the Moon

Pink Floyd

1973

Karen pulled the mail from the post office box. She didn’t bother checking it too often since more often than not it contained bills that she had to give to Peter who had to rob Paul to pay anyways. However, living all those miles away in West Virginia, letters from Maryland and Jamaica often trumped her desire to avoid the bills. She hurried back to the car that she’d left running while three-year-old Nellie slept in the ba ckseat.

Karen sifted through the ten-day accumulation of advertisements and the cellophane windowed envelopes. Those were the her least favorite. They were the ones that reached into their checking account and robbed her of spending money. It seemed she never had enough money for the bills and definitely not for spending. She was a stay-at-home mom and Lee was a bricklayer whose work was weather-dependent. Living in the mountains of West Virginia proved it to be a tough way to make a living, especially in the winter. They did their best to save what they could in the warm weather but were always happy to see spring show up again.

Karen smiled when she spotted a red, white, and blue airmail envelope. She tossed the rest of the mail onto the seat and looked at the return address. St. Ann’s Bay, Jamaica, W.I. Sure enough. She ripped it open and pulled out the familiar handwriting written on stenographer paper, dated three weeks earlier. Gotta send her some nice stationery for her birthday, she said aloud to herself and began to read.

February 12, 1973

Hey Woman!

Greetings from Jamaica. I’m sitting on a tree stump in my yard that overlooks the sea wishing you were here to sea it with me. When are you guys coming for that long-promised visit? I’ve been here six months already! I’m really missing you, girl. Really need my best friend fix right now.

Your last letter said that things were going better for you these days with the hint of a possible move back to Maryland. Any more on that? I know you’d be happy to leave the snow-covered mountains of West Virginia. Ain’t no Almost Heaven in it for you, I’m thinking.

Donovan’s job on the construction site of the new resort, Hyatt Regency in Ochi (it’s what the locals call Ocho Rios), is going well. He comes home hot and sweaty every day, takes a shower, and then I make him hot and sweaty all over again. Haha.

Guess what! I got a lead on Jack Ruby’s, a nightspot in Ochi. He’s also a record producer and it’s where Bob Marley got his start. He might hire me to play three nights a week. I talked with the manager and played a few tunes for him. I think he liked me and said he’d let me know within the next couple of weeks. Maybe when you and Lee come for a visit, we can go down and check it out. I hear lots of music people from Kingston hang out there while they’re vacationing in Ochi. I’ll get all kinds of exposure if I can play there. Cross your fingers or put in a prayer with the Big Guy for me, k?

I also have a lead on maybe being an extra for a James Bond flick they’re gonna film here. Yes, you can have my autograph! An extra what, I’m not sure, but I’m thinking once they get a load of my extraordinary acting skills, I’ll be James Bond’s main squeeze. What acting skills, you ask? It’s my daydream, so hang with me.

So, I’ve got something I need to get off my chest and tag, my friend, you’re it. You’re always it it seems, doesn’t it? Enough of the drum roll . . . so here goes.

So, I found myself a few weeks late and not for tea. Actually, I wasn’t late, but my period was. I was so freaked out, Kar, I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer. Not to lay a guilt trip on you or anything, but I gave up and did it anyway.

Karen looked up from the letter and stared at the red brick of the post office wall. Did it? Did what? Surely not another one . . . she took a deep breath and looked back at the letter.

Anyway, I’ve been so busy with working on new songs and trying to set up steady gigs, I just couldn’t do it right now, you know? Be a mom, I mean. It just wouldn’t work for us at this point (Donovan doesn’t know, please keep this just between us). I mean we’re living on the side of a hill in something that is little more than a lean-to. I know it’s the norm for people here, but I still feel like I’m camping. Don’t know how I’d teach a kid to crawl on a dirt floor . . .

Here in Jamaica, they use herbs for just about everything. I’d heard that there was something I could drink to bring on a period. Viveen, an older lady that lives up the path from us gave me a few cups of guinea hen tea. I drank it and by the end of the day, I was bleeding big time. Like a bad period with some cramping. I’m thinking that maybe I wasn’t really pregnant, but can’t say for sure, so there’s no need to alarm Donovan. There, I feel better. Sorry if I put a kink in your day.

Please don’t be mad at me, Kar. I know you’re disappointed and don’t understand. You are the best mom I know. When I think of how you didn’t want to be pregnant, but went through it anyway, I know it was the right thing for you to do. I just couldn’t do the same. Not this time.

Karen leaned her head back on the headrest, her thoughts bumping into each other. Doesn’t Jamaica have birth control? Geez, there’s probably some kinda back bush tea for that too. What the heck was she thinking? But, she knew in her spirit exactly what Ginger was thinking. She knew Ging wanted kids more than anyone else she knew, she just didn’t know it yet. Having kids isn’t about timing, it’s about love. She’d be such an awesome mom, if she’d just give herself the chance to experience it. She took a deep sigh, shook her head as if it would help, and continued reading.

Sorry to dump this on you. I don’t even know why I am, except I had to tell someone. Someone that loves me and will love me in spite of what I’ve done.

It was the weirdest thing. Once I drank the tea, I was sorry and changed my mind for a while. For a bit, I didn’t think the tea was working, but as the day went on, it did. It took about 21 hours for the whole thing to be over. I cried like I haven’t since Mom died. Felt so bad knowing that she also didn’t wanna be pregnant with any of us, but did it anyway. I was glad Donovan was at work when the cramps got bad. He never suspected anything and still doesn’t.

Karen was stunned. Shoot, if weren’t for oops, and their moms having unplanned pregnancies, neither of them would be here. Barb and Ellie had toughed it out each time they found themselves pregnant time after time. Why was Ginger dumping this on her? She thought back to the days not long after Ginger’s mom, Ellie, died.

A silent tear slipped down Karen’s cheek. Ginger rarely talked about her mom who had been best friends with Karen’s mother, Barb. When Ellie died at the hands of a drunk driver two years earlier, the accident yanked Ginger back into a life she’d been very happy to escape. She and her two younger brothers, William and Timmy, moved back in with their dad. Ginger was eighteen and able to live on her own but knew her brothers needed her there. Karen had done her best to keep close to Ginger in the months that followed, but the 400 miles between them made it a challenge.

I can’t believe you’re really going back there, Karen said into the phone as she stretched the curly green cord across the kitchen. It had only been a few weeks since Ellie died. She reached over and stirred